


One of Us

by IronWoman359



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, Beating, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Logan is a loner, always has been. He doesn't assume that to have changed, even after he starts hanging around with three other punks from his new school. But when he gets into a fight for their sake, he may have to change his assumptions after all.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton
Comments: 7
Kudos: 154





	One of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: When one character doesn’t realize they’ve been accepted into the family/think of themselves as outsides, until they get hurt and everyone takes shifts watching over them and taking care of them and One taking punishment for the whole group with Logan?

Logan was used to ignoring assholes on the street. He himself had always attracted a fair bit of attention, with his bright blue hair, multiple piercings, and aggressively spiked clothing. Since he’d moved to a new school and started tagging along with the small band of punks who attended, all of whom had their own unique, _out there_ styles, the sneers and jabbing words had only gotten worse. 

However, Logan also was not stupid. While he was more than ready to throw down verbally at anyone who tried to “put him in his place” and _physically_ with someone who just couldn’t let it go, he was aware of his own limits. At just under 5'8" and barely 150 pounds, he knew that some wars were better left fought on the intellectual battleground, or not at all. 

The three guys in the alley had been big. He shouldn’t have gone back. If he were honest with himself, he couldn’t even articulate why he had. Despite his seemingly sweet exterior, Patton himself was nonetheless quite used to harassment over his presentation; Logan was under no illusions about needing to defend the pastel punk’s honor.

But then _that word_ had fallen from the thug’s lips, and Logan saw the way Patton flinched and balled the edges of his pink skirt in his fists, and in that moment, all of Logan’s logic went out the window.

The fight didn’t last long; even with the switchblade Logan carried on him at all times, he was hopelessly outmatched.

Before he knew it, he was lying on his side in the alley, each breath he took sending pain shooting across his ribs. The blood trickled from his freshly split lip tickled his chin, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to wipe it away. If he were perfectly honest, he’d be content to just lie down here in this nice, dark, cool alley and take a nap…

Yes, a nap sounded lovely right now. But before he could let his eyes close, he saw 3 blurry figures moving towards him. Perhaps that gang had come back for another bout of fun. He _really_ shouldn’t have picked a fight with them, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

Logan suddenly decided that he didn’t much want to be conscious for the second round of beating, and he let his mind slip away into oblivion.

* * *

“Be gentle, Princey, we don’t know how bad his ribs are!”

“I know, Emo Knightmare, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to patch one of you dolts up after a fight, remember?”

“Guys, wait, I think he’s waking up. Logan? Kiddo, can you hear me?”

Logan groaned, cracking one eyelid open. He was lying flat on his back with something cold pressed against his left eye, which after a quick test, Logan determined to be swollen shut. For some reason, his shirt was off, and Roman and Virgil were leaning over his chest, their quiet bickering falling away as he stirred. A first aid kit was open at Virgil’s feet and Roman was holding a bundle of gauze in one hand.

“W-what…” he croaked, but Patton, who Logan realized was holding an ice pack up against his face for him, made a shushing sound.

“Take it easy, Logan don’t push yourself, okay?”

“You really took a pounding, man,” Virgil said in what most would assume was a nonchalant tone, but that Logan could hear the undercurrent of worry in. “This is typically where you say ‘you should see the other guy’ but, uh, I did. And I gotta say, I don’t think you won this one.”

“Astute observation,” Logan grunted, allowing Patton to push his head back against his pillow. “You really don’t need to bother with all that,” he added, looking to Roman and nodding at the gauze in his hand. “I have my own medical supplies at home, I would have been perfectly capable of patching myself up.”

The three punks stared at him like he’d grown a second head, and Logan blinked.

“What did I sa-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nutty Professor,” Roman interrupted. “We’d never leave one of our own to fend for themselves. What do you take us for, petty thugs?”

Logan fell silent again, and Patton adjusted the ice pack against his face, frowning down at him.

“Lo, honey? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, not wishing to cause Patton even more distress today. “I just simply…” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of his words.

“You what, L?” Virgil asked, and Logan shifted, looking away from the three of them.

“I was not aware that you considered me _one of your own_, as you put it, Roman.”

“Oh, Lo honey…” Patton sounded absolutely heartbroken, and Logan got the feeling that he was the worst person on the planet for making Patton feel that way. “Of _course_ you’re one of us…you’re part of our famILY!”

“Us freaks gotta stick together,” Virgil agreed, a small smile on his face. “Dealing with all of your problems alone isn’t very punk rock of you, you know.”

“I, that is, I-” Logan was _not_ enjoying this new phenomenon of not being able to find his words around the others, and Roman chuckled.

“I gotta say, if I knew telling him to his face that he was wanted would be enough to make him speechless, I’d have done it ages ago.”

“Roman!” Patton chided, and Roman held up his hands.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But…seriously, Specs,” he added, his voice going soft. “You _are_ wanted. And if you think you can go and get beat up by a bunch of homophobic assholes _without_ us hovering over you while you get better? You’ve got another thing coming.”

Logan took a breath to speak but hissed in pain instead, one hand flying to his chest.

“Okay, enough chatter, this is gonna suck, but we need to figure out if any of your ribs are broken, got it L?” Virgil asked, and Logan nodded.

The three of them went back to their first aid efforts, and Logan let his head fall back against the pillow, distantly aware of Patton running fingers through his hair. As his eyes drifted closed again, he found that he actually wanted to believe what they were saying. The part of him that longed for companionship, the part he’d tried to repress for so long was rising to the front of his mind, but instead of pushing it away like normal, Logan let it surface and drink in their words. 

It was a dangerous thing, hope. But as he drifted off to sleep to the sound of Roman and Virgil resuming their quiet banter and Patton’s soft humming, he decided that for once, it was worth it.


End file.
